Daniel took a big bite of a juicy, apple with one red side, sniffed the breeze that carried the savory, appetizing smoke of roasting meat, and settled back into the hammock, brushing a crawling black bug off the page. His body hummed pleasantly after the run, relishing the sensation of weightlessness. The sun affectionately kissed his bare legs through the patterned shadows of overhanging branches. The sweet-smelling earth was cool, and the tall crowns of old trees rustled their leaves soothingly. Insects buzzed faintly, weaving a soft, persistent chime into the overall calming sound of the nearby forest. It was good, calm, and serene. Only occasionally did a sticky web of anxiety sweep over his thoughts, reminding him of the watchful eye of the cell. But Daniel pushed the cobwebs away with an effort of will - everything with Sonya was finished after Alexander had brutally put a stop to it, and there was no reason to poison himself with memories.

A sudden rustle and a slight crunch broke the solitude. Daniel placed the book back on his chest, looking unhappily in the direction of the noise - of course, Alexander was, as always, barreling through the bushes, ignoring the civilized path. He smiled weakly when he heard the sound of a heavy body falling, a loud crunch, and a curse. It was typical of Alexander to crash through the bushes without watching his step. The disheveled barbarian emerged into Daniel's oasis, rubbing his shins scratched in the fall, and chuckled good-naturedly to himself.

"Imagine, I fell on a flat spot."

"You have to go around," Daniel replied smoothly, half-closing his eyes as Alexander leaned in for a kiss after a few strides.

"No pity," Alexander reproached, taking Daniel's face in his hands and admiring him. "You've got a bit of a tan, and your nose is shining. How do you feel?"

"Good," Daniel replied, shaking his head and pulling away. The touch of Alexander's hot palms was unpleasant; he craved the coolness he had felt moments before. "You're hot, it's hot."

Alexander squinted slightly, searching Daniel's face for deeper rejection, trying to discern if there was more behind his words. He smiled a little warily.

"They've finished fixing the pool. It'll be filled in a couple of hours, so we can still swim."

"Mm-hmm," Daniel flipped through a few pages of his book, sighing as he realized Alexander hadn't picked up on his subtle hint. "I'd like to continue reading."

"You can read later. People will start arriving soon, so we'll have to postpone reading anyway," Alexander settled into the hammock next to Daniel's, which he had arranged to be hung close by just yesterday. "I was thinking you lack social interaction. For some reason, you don't like talking to my friends. Maybe it's time you made some of your own."

Daniel dropped his book in shock, eyes wide. Making friends under conditions of total control, with an escort even to the toilet, felt like a cruel joke. He pressed his lips together, suppressing his boiling anger, swung his legs out of the hammock, and slapped away Alexander's hand that tried to stop him.

"Get off!"

He stomped away, barefoot on the wet grass, leaving his flip-flops he couldn't get into in frustration. Alexander, watching tensely, rushed after him.

"Danny, I'm serious! I'm not joking! Danny, wait a minute. Relax, let's talk."

"You've got to be kidding me!" Daniel spun around and shoved him in the chest, barely holding back the urge to punch him. "Are you fucking kidding me?! Keep your hands off me, I said! Don't piss me off even more, Sasha!"

"I'm not kidding you," Alexander said, obediently removing his hands and clasping them behind his back for good measure. "I'm suggesting you meet with your former colleagues. You got along well with them, didn't you? Like Nikita Dalin, for example, or..."

"See this finger? Read the signs!" Daniel retorted, flipping his middle finger before darting into the bushes Alexander had already bruised. He had neither the desire nor the time to go around. Stepping on something sharp with his bare foot, he cursed, jumped on the other, and instantly deflated. There was no point in running; there was no escape. Sasha would catch up with him. Alexander timidly touched his shoulder, ran his hand down his back, and asked.

"Does it hurt?"

"Very much," Daniel answered quietly, referring to something else entirely. Alexander understood. He sighed with an agonizing longing and silently slipped his arm under Daniel's shoulder, leading him back to the hammock. He laid him down, gently lifted his wounded foot, brushed off the greasy earth and debris, and stroked it.

"No scratch, just some redness. Don't go barefoot. And about friends, please think about it at your leisure. You need social interaction; I can see that. Me and my entourage aren't enough."

"How do you see it, Sasha?" Daniel asked tiredly, placing his hand on his forehead while Alexander continued to lovingly stroke his foot. "My colleagues are ordinary middle-class people, not used to socializing with someone constantly surrounded by bodyguards. They're all just regular people, like me."

"Well, let's face it, you're not that simple," Alexander said, squinting against the blinding rays. "Even compared to them. Just look at your feet," he added, tickling the arch and rubbing the heel.

"What's so privileged about them?" Daniel said defiantly, pulling his foot away. Alexander gave him a sad look and explained.

"The ordinary middle class often has bone calluses from ill-fitting shoes: on the arches, ankles, and sides. Their parents didn't throw money around. Shoes were bought strictly by size and purpose: for school, for sports. Expensive winter shoes were limited to a maximum of two pairs, in case one got wet. Trifles like chafing were ignored. New shoes were rarely bought at the end of the season, even if toes were pinched. Your toes are straight, not deformed by narrow shoes, and there are no growths on the arches or heels. So, you always had several pairs of well-fitting shoes, and if one pair rubbed, it was simply replaced with a new one."

"So? I was an only child, so naturally, I was taken care of more," Daniel said, twirling his foot and examining it from all sides.

"Well, of course. It's a small but telling detail. You lived in expensive villas, houses, condos, ate meals cooked by servants, and studied in private schools in different countries," Alexander said, pulling closer and tilting the hammock dangerously to the left. "Most of them studied in public schools, ate what their mother or grandmother cooked, and saw much less than you have seen. So you're different from them by default."

"I guess. I don't want to argue about it. Anyway, I don't see how I'm going to be able to communicate with them if I come to a meeting with two guards," Daniel said, placing his foot on Alexander's chest to stop him. "Don't."

"I can organize the process so that nothing scares them away. You'll come alone; the bodyguards will walk at a distance, and in a cafe or restaurant, they'll sit far away. Will you think about it?" Alexander tried to remove Daniel's foot, but Daniel shoved him sharply, causing Alexander to slump onto his back, grabbing the edges. The hammock bounced, struggled to maintain their balance, and then spat them out onto the lawn.

Daniel landed relatively softly on top of Alexander, who fell with a thud and grunted, but immediately enveloped him in his arms and legs like a giant octopus. They rolled down the slope toward the bushes. The world spun, filled with the scent of woody perfume, faint sweat, sweet black soil, and fresh, bitter grass. Daniel floundered helplessly, twisting when a sudden playful tug hit his ribs, and he laughed harshly, unable to bear the tickling.

"Stop it! Stop it," Daniel retaliated, sinking his fingers into Alexander's armpits, running them up and down the tight, hard muscles. He laughed fully when Alexander, flushed with exertion, jerked up and down in amusement.

The tension of the past week dissolved in their laughter, bursting like a thin skin on a boil and releasing repressed, burned-out feelings. It felt light and empty, like the aftermath of a lengthy illness. Daniel, gradually quieting down, looked through his sun-golden hair at the serene blue sky, breathed more measuredly, and felt a strange, bitter tenderness spilling over him with each trembling kiss, almost weightless on his cheekbones, nose, cheeks, lips, and neck. Alexander did not press, neither with caress nor his weight: he raised himself on his elbows and knees, touched him lightly, so as not to make him angry. And he looked, looked pleadingly, humiliatedly, begging his capricious deity to condescend to warmth. His gaze was almost physically burning, and the silence conveyed the meaning more eloquently than words.

There were no winners or losers, just co-dependents. A foolish, painful bond, equally destructive and joyful. It was impossible to comprehend, impossible to sever. Not yet...

Daniel breathed a thought against Alexander's lips, barely responding to the kiss. But even that slight response was enough for Alexander to brighten, eyes glowing with enthusiasm, and assertively deepen the kiss. His hand slid down, brushed Daniel's shirt, slipped under it to his shrinking belly, and flowed upward to rub his nipple...

"I don't want to," Daniel slapped the insolent hand away, pulling his pinky finger when the hand didn't obey. Alexander grimaced, rubbed his already erect cock against Daniel's hardening groin, and whispered.

"You're lying."

"I'm lying," Daniel agreed, still pulling his finger away. "You're not going to get it anyway, leave me alone."

"Why not?" Alexander hissed, twisting his pinky free. "You promised that..."

Daniel flared up, grabbed Alexander's ears, yanked him close, and bit his lips, tasting salt and iron. Alexander moaned briefly, tensed, frowned, but allowed himself to be bitten. That submissiveness, that permissiveness, was more restraining than resistance. Daniel would have reacted even more aggressively to resistance - the adrenaline in his system was already surging before a potential fight, pushing him to strike, to crush his lips with his fist rather than bite him. Daniel fell silent, swallowing viscous saliva mixed with hot liquid blood. Alexander froze as well, only brushing his eyelashes against Daniel's skin and breathing heavily.

The outside world loomed with its sounds and sensations, a peaceful backdrop to their turbulent emotions. Daniel stroked Alexander's tense back in a conciliatory gesture, rubbed his nose against Alexander's. Alexander instantly came to life, blossoming, and raised himself on his elbows. Blood from his bitten lip dripped onto Daniel's face. He hummed softly.

Kiss me, kiss me,

Kiss me till I bleed,

Kiss me till I hurt,

Where passion's flames secede.

I'm not in tune

With the cold, rigid will,

But the heart's boiling water,

Its fierce, fervent thrill.

"I barely found you!" Georgy, a silent shinobi, suddenly appeared on the lawn. Daniel lifted his head, staring at him mindlessly, upside down. He smiled, imagining the sight they made: him lying beneath Alexander, wild and bloody, with an equally wild Alexander aggressively pinning him down. Georgy staggered back. "Uh, are you coming? We're in the living room waiting for you..." he said, quickly retreating.

"Shit, Goshka is going to make up some bullshit as usual," Alexander said cheerfully, wiping himself with his T-shirt. "Let's go. We need to wash up and change."

"Let's go," Daniel sighed, grasping his outstretched hand.

The table on the terrace was set festively, with a white cloth and an exquisite arrangement of simple but appetizing dishes. It looked like a celebration, but it wasn't, just a friendly gathering - Daniel had flatly refused to celebrate his birthday, so Alexander had to find a balance. The guests still showed up with presents, but they were handed out casually, as if by accident. There was a careful air about them; they wanted to please Daniel without accidentally angering him. It was as if they were tiptoeing around him, like one would around a lunatic. Daniel thanked them politely, stacked the packages on a nearby chair, and when Alexander rose, he vindictively moved some of the packages to Alexander's chair, barricading himself on both sides. He met Alexander's silent indignation with an innocent eyebrow raise, shrugging his shoulders - it was all he could do, a petty, impotent act of defiance.

"I gave you a tablet, and it has a SIM card," Nastya whispered. Daniel, who hadn't been paying attention to the conversation, perked up. Now he could freely surf the Internet without fear of being followed.

"Thank you!" Daniel opened the bags, found an iPad Pro in one of them, but didn't pull it out - no need for Alexander to see it. Instead, he took out his phone and immersed himself in social networks. Entertaining Alexander's friends wasn't something he signed up for, especially on his birthday. He could afford a little mutiny.

As always, he checked the accounts of Alice, Zack, and Peter first - torturing himself by observing their free, eventful lives. Only then did he switch to the accounts of his former colleagues from Arc, flipping through their feeds with indifference. The last account he checked was Liza Ershova's, one he usually didn't bother checking through Sennoy. He noted idly that she hadn't posted anything in a while. He was about to close the app but accidentally clicked on a photo, opening the comments. Something caught his eye. The writer was apparently a close acquaintance of Liza's: "Liz, hi. You didn't recognize me, it seems. I'm Zhanna Smirnova. I sent a friend request to @thelostmodelintheworld, please accept it."

His eyes darkened for a second - had he been checking her work account all this time? He quickly logged into his fake profile, found Liza's personal account, and sent a friend request, not really expecting her to accept. He copied her username and enlarged the profile picture, acting on a hunch without any particular purpose. Liza was made up as Tim Burton's "Corpse Bride" in the photo, with skillful blue makeup, enlarged eyes, lush false eyelashes, and blue hair. He shuddered - on her thin wrist, a massive rose gold watch with four gold figures stood out. Something vague but important flashed in his memory, leading to a blinding realization - the watch was expensive, undoubtedly so! Alexander had persistently shown him watch catalogs before his birthday, insisting that if Daniel didn't choose one, he would buy one himself with some angel or... or mounted Mongols. These resembled the tiny dots on Liza Ershova's watch.

"You could at least have the decency to talk to everyone," Alexander muttered glumly. "I know you didn't want to celebrate with them and you're mad at me in general, but please..."

"Yes, yes," Daniel replied absently, rising abruptly and picking up the bags of gifts. "I'll be right back."

"Is everything all right, Danny?" Alexander asked, standing up behind him. Daniel pressed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

"I'm fine, just hot and sweaty. I'll change and come back."

Alexander looked skeptically at the air vents cooling them but said nothing, nodding grimly. The company, which had fallen silent during their exchange, buzzed with relief as soon as Daniel stepped out.

Daniel flew up to the second floor, reaching the bedroom in a few swift steps. After locking himself in, he took the tiny SIM card out of the card holder, swapped it with the SIM card in his tablet. He wrote a message to Sennoy, dry and succinct, "I haven't been able to get in touch. I'm being watched more than before. Please check on Elizaveta Ershova, Mikhail Ershov's ex-wife. She's not someone I've suspected before. Everything I know about her is here. The next contact will be on Telegram." He pasted links to her Instagram accounts and closed all the apps.

His heart was racing, and within minutes he was drenched, as if he'd been working under the hot sun all day. He put the SIM cards back, stashed the tablet in his bag where the house staff wouldn't find it, and wandered to the bathroom. When he returned to the table, he slipped his hand under the tablecloth onto Alexander's thigh - irrationally needing his energy to restore balance. His own battery was running on empty. Alexander straightened up happily, interlaced their fingers, and hummed more vigorously.

"Hey, my gift will come later tonight. Nothing dirty, no need to speculate," he laughed, gently stroking Daniel's fingers. "We need to unwind, change the scenery. Let's go on vacation."

"Let me guess," Katya perked up, bored. "St. Barthélemy?"

"Wrong guess," Alexander said, slightly embarrassed, casting a brief glance at Daniel. "Baikal."

"Baikal?!" Varya brushed away a curl of hair blown by the breeze. "What's good there? We went once, and it was awful. The resorts are shit, no tourist infrastructure, nothing to eat but fat proteins and carbs."

"You don't get it, Var. You're putting streotypical expectations on a unique phenomenon," Alexander replied firmly. "Baikal is a sacred lake, a place of shamanic power. We won't stay in resorts, but in tents right on the beach or in the forest. It's a completely different experience, an opportunity to connect with primordial nature and original culture. We'll go trekking, climb mountains, fish, even dive to the bottom of the deepest lake in the world in a bathyscaphe."

Boris was interested and opened his mouth, but Alexander quickly added, "It'll be just the two of us. It's romantic, after all. The third wheel would be unnecessary, sorry, Boris."

"It's better to go to Baikal in August," Mark said authoritatively. "It only warms up by then. It's a good idea; I'd love such a trip too."

Daniel, still visualizing the thin wrist with the unusual watch, said thoughtfully, "Thank you, Sasha. I like the gift, but I'd prefer to go in August to experience everything fully."

"Exactly!" Mark exclaimed contentedly, shivering under Alexander's hard stare. But Daniel didn't care about his mood. He couldn't leave now, not when he could get vital information from Sennoy about Liza at any moment. And if it was confirmed... He remembered the calm, reliable Mikhail with his trustworthy manners - could he really? Or rather, how could he? Daniel shook himself; the reasons didn't matter, only the proof did. With it, he could renegotiate the arrangement, reduce the rest of his sentence, and be free. And then, he could make Alexander happy with a farewell trip to wherever he wished. Daniel smiled sincerely, squeezed Alexander's fingers until they cracked, and for the first time in front of his friends, leaned on his shoulder. Alexander, who had been indignantly reprimanding Mark, stopped talking, breathed hastily, and kissed Daniel's forehead.

"August it is then. As you wish, Danny."